


The Side Effects of Death

by Mad_Muse_Musings



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of Rape but not explicit, Pheels, Woke Up Gay, only not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Muse_Musings/pseuds/Mad_Muse_Musings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wonder drug that brought Phil and Skye back from death as a small side effect of pulling out all the fun things you try to shove into the back of your mind, in deep dark black boxes.</p>
<p>For both of them, this means tackling feelings - and people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Side Effects of Death

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Proper Experiment](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365532) by [RebeccaDopplemeyer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebeccaDopplemeyer/pseuds/RebeccaDopplemeyer). 



Phil Coulson was not gay. He repeated it at himself for so long through childhood and then eventually the rest of his life that he even believed it. When Melinda had told him one night while they were still tangled in their bed sheets that she was bisexual and that it was fine if he was too, he had panicked and bolted from the room, barely pulling his boxers on before sitting on the balcony railing.

“Phil?” She had called tentatively from the doorway, wrapped only in the maroon bed sheets, her voice quivering with fear that he was going to pitch himself off of the railing.

“Go back to bed, Mel. I’m fine.” He had tried to tell her only to be distracted long enough for her strong arms to wrap around him and pull him back onto solid ground.

“Liar. Please, Phil, talk to me.”

“I’m not gay.” He murmured, shaking his head almost violently, like he could dislodge the notion.

“Honey, I never said you were.” She whispered before carefully turning him around, wrapping the sheet around him so their bare chests were almost touching but they were shielded from any prying eyes. “I suggested you might be bisexual, just like me.” She had felt him tense and it took all her will to keep her tears locked away, while she asked the question she was really afraid to know the answer to. “Do I disgust you now?”

His face had contorted, and it was clear he was really thinking about the question before shaking his head and resting their foreheads together.

“Then come back to bed, honey. I’m sorry I brought it up, it won’t happen again, unless it’s in the context of a threesome.” Melinda whispered, earning a smile at the mention of a potential future threesome.

But Melinda knew. After they had curled back up into bed that night, she laid awake for a long time, her fingers carding through his hair, whispering into the night questions about what had happened to him to make him so fearful of himself. But really she had her answers, he was Army before SHIELD, something she could have never been, unless she had wanted to be a medic – which she didn’t – and he was a product of their generation.

Then Bahrain happened and Melinda couldn’t hold it together anymore, not for the both of them, hell she was barely managing to hold it together for herself and she had to walk away. She shut down for a long time, barely speaking unless absolutely required, and threw herself into the lovely world of paperwork.

And Phil tried his best to never think about that night when they were in bed and she made her confession and leveled him with a truth he didn’t want to handle. And he was overwhelmingly successful until Natasha Romanoff entered his life by way of Clint Barton. Melinda’s confession had been inconsequential up until that moment, but then she started dating Natasha and Phil couldn’t ignore the confession anymore. And that meant not ignoring the rest of what had happened that night.

And then he died, and when he was floating in the blissful space of not living, he felt like he could finally lay down and not worry anymore about anything. About the way he would occasionally catch himself watching Clint shoot, or the way he sometimes he would watch Clint in his kitchen after a particularly rough mission, thinking how well he fit there. He could finally not worry about what it all meant, because it didn’t matter anymore, he could simply be. He regretted leaving Audrey behind – the Cellist – but he was finally at peace, drifting among the stars.

Until he wasn’t.

Which was really why he had begged for death. He couldn’t feel anything that was going on, SHIELD had the good drugs after all, but he wanted to be at peace again, not constantly fighting with himself about something that he had pushed down from the time he was eleven and gotten his first hard-on while watching an old movie of Captain America.

After he was released and the BUS was fully operational, with Melinda flying it, he found himself occasionally wishing Clint was there on a particularly hard mission, which didn’t make any sense, because really Ward wasn’t Barton, but he could make a shot when called upon.

Then Skye almost died, and he thought he was going to break into a thousand pieces, because he had almost lost Melinda in Bahrain, he couldn’t actually lose Skye in Italy. He was so scared of what the drug would do to her after seeing the alien in the tube, but she pulled through, and that was ultimately what mattered.

It was almost two weeks later when she dropped into a chair in front of his desk, acting like nothing had happened.

“I have a question for you, AC.”

Phil sighed, preemptively rubbing the bridge of his nose and dropping his pen, turning his attention to Skye.

“What, Skye?”

“Did you have any side effects from our wonder drug?”

“Such as?” Phil prods.

“I don’t know how to really phrase it, but I totally tackled Jemma after I got my sea legs back. Like it was always there, this nagging thought about her, but after that drug, I just…” She trailed off with a shrug.

He froze, felt the cold seeping through his body at the question, because here he was, right back in the same god damn position he was in with Melinda, minus four or five orgasms before, with Skye. And he lied. “I honestly have no clue what you are talking about, Skye. Maybe being so close to death you just made some realizations.”

But he did know what she was talking about. It was like a side effect of that damn drug was to pull everything in you out of the deep dark corners that you tried to push it into. The feelings he had for Melinda reared their head first, which is why he asked for her to be on the plane, he wanted her close, despite everything. Then the pull to Clint started eating away at him. And more than once he had woken up from a dream, Clint’s name spilling from his lips, the sheets soaked in sweat, and his body six steps ahead of his mind, aching for strong arms to wrap around him for post orgasmic cuddles.

Skye narrowed her eyes at him, in a way that told him Melinda and her were spending way too much time together, and tilted her head. “I don’t think that’s the truth, AC, but I know how you like your secrets.” And with that she slipped out of the office, the door closing with probably a bit more force than strictly required.

Phil groaned and hit the button for the com connection to the cockpit, asking Melinda to come to his office, making sure to use her first name to clearly make it a request and not an order.

“What’s wrong, Phil?” She said, the moment the door closed behind her, taking careful steps around his desk to force him out of the chair and over to the couch, because this was a personal conversation, not one to be had with a desk between them.

The crease that was almost ever present between his eyes deepened, and Melinda itched to brush it away with her thumb like she used to, when they were in their twenties, when he would think too hard at something, and she would sooth the muscles, willing him to let it work it’s self out without so much thought. But she wasn’t permitted to do that anymore, not with Phil anyway, so she sat and waited for him to tell her what was the cause, a prayer echoing in her mind, that she hoped she could sooth it away.

She watched he try to start the conversation a few times, his mouth opening only to close again, as if he had decided the words needed to be different, before he finally sighed and looked at her.

“How are you okay with yourself being…?” And he trailed off, waving his hands at her.

And Melinda couldn’t help the snort that escaped. She expected this conversation almost twenty years ago when they were lying in bed after her confession, not now.

“If this is funny to you, we can, not have this conversation.” Phil said, that crease deepening just a bit further.

“No, Phil, it’s just, god, this is like twenty years late. And much less fun when you don’t have me mostly wrecked with orgasms. Which, by the by, is why that little confession ever came out. In case you were wondering. Apparently, SHIELD should try torture by orgasm, because after four I will tell you my social security number without flinching.”

“To be fair, I had that already.” He tossed back at her with a smirk, the band that felt like it was around his heart loosening up just a little bit. It was nice to sit and talk to her without her throwing up all her shields, to be able to act like they were when they went through the academy together.

“But, what do you mean? I’m me, Phil, always have been, always will be. While all the other girls were screaming over Cap, I wanted Peggy, god how I wanted Peggy, and once I got old enough to really think about it, the idea of being sandwiched between Cap and her… Those were good orgasms, Phil.”

“That’s not what I asked, although thank you for that visual, my ex-girlfriend, my idol, and his girlfriend, I’m never going to be able to look at Steve in the eyes again.”

Melinda cocked her head to the side, looking at him like she was trying to visually dissect him, a sign that she and Natasha had been dating far too long, if Phil had anything to say about it. “You’re asking how I came to terms with it, living in our generation?”

Phil nodded.

“It was a battle, honey. But, you know as well as I do, you have seen my file after all, that I was a wild child. Loved breaking the rules, and that probably made it easier, but at some point I decided that my happiness was more important than whatever anyone else thought. Including you, Phil.” Melinda said, making sure her voice wasn’t unkind, but firm.

“That’s why you walked away after Bahrain. That’s why you had the strength to, your happiness always comes first.” He murmured it, but she could still hear him, they were sitting that close, but his voice wasn’t accusatory, it just seemed like suddenly everything made sense.

But just in case it was supposed to be a question, Melinda nodded and said. “Yes.” Before cocking her head to the side again. “What is this really about, Phil? That crease in your forehead is giving you away.”

“Skye asked me if I had any side effects from that drug, and I lied to her.”

Melinda’s face scrunched up in confusion at that, not sure how one thing related to the other. “You said no more secrets, Phil, and that seems like an awful big one to keep from her.”

“It pulls all those things out of their boxes, Mel. All the shit you lock away, it pulls it all out. I think that’s why I had those dreams about Tahiti, the drug was more powerful than that damn machine.”

“What does this have to do with the price of tea in China?”

Phil sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It pulled Skye’s feelings for Jemma forward. She asked if I had any side effects like that, and I lied, told her it was probably the near death experience.”

“Is this a very long way of telling me you still have feelings for me?” Melinda asked, an eye brow arched.

Phil snorted but shook his head. “I do, but not like that. You had to wonder why after almost twenty years of not talking I asked you, personally, to be a part of my team. I shoved all my feelings for you into a box after you left, but that need to protect you, it came back hard when I woke up. I wanted you close, especially since Natasha has to babysit the Avengers.”

Melinda simply nodded for him to continue, still a little unsure how everything twisted together. And then he derailed her again.

“That night, in bed, why did you say that?”

“I told you, orgasms.”

Phil shook his head. “Why did you say it…?” He trailed off, motioning at himself.

Melinda’s face softened, and she leaned in, cupping his face in her hand, running her thumb over his cheek bone. “Oh honey, you had such a crush on Cap, it was adorable.”

Phil choked on his own spit, torn between wanting to pull away from her and curl up in her lap and let her sooth everything away. He was so tired, so very tired of fighting himself.

“Who is it, honey? Who’s got you so worked up?” Melinda asked, her voice just above being a coo.

Phil gave in and curled up against her, tears spilling down his face and onto the leather of her jacket. “Clint.” He murmured, his voice was thick with the tears and muffled still by where he was pressed into her.

“Phil, it’s okay, honey.” She tried to sooth him, rubbing her hand up and down his back, the other tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, nails gently scratching.

“It’s not.” He sobbed harder.

“Why not?”

“I can’t be gay.”

“You’re not. You’re bisexual, honey, believe me, I have the orgasms for proof.” Melinda said, pressing her lips against his temple, trying to lighten the mood just a little.

“I can’t be.”

“Phil.” And when he ignored her, she pushed him back until he had to look in her eyes. “Philip, listen to me. Times have changed, even the Army says it’s okay, sure the crazies are still out there, but, Phil, you have fought this battle for far too long. Stop fighting, enjoy life, honey.”

“It’s not that simple.” He tried to argue but Melinda pulled him up from the couch and walked him into the attached bedroom, laying them both down on the bed.

“I’ll just have to lay here until you realize it is. Chose to be happy, Phil.” She whispered, toeing her boots off before curling up behind him.

Phil pulled away to strip out of his clothing, down to his undershirt and boxers, before crawling back into the bed, and Melinda followed his lead, striping down to her sports bra and boy shorts.

“Natasha is going to kill me for this isn’t she?” He muttered once she laid back down behind him, tangling their legs together.

“Nah, she’ll understand. I have come home more often than I want to admit to find Clint in our bed, Natasha petting him like a scared child.” Melinda explained with a sigh, wrapping her arm around him. “He was really torn up when they told him you died. Natasha wouldn’t let him out of her sight, I spent three months sharing the bed with him too. She was so scared he was going to try to throw himself off the top of the tower or something.”

“She did that to you?”

Melinda nodded. “I didn’t really mind. I could see Clint falling apart too, he needed us, needed Tasha. I could share until he got better, which wasn’t until Fury told him you were alive.”

“We had a long relationship as asset and handler, it would be jarring.” Phil said, reaching out to turn the light off beside the bed, his voice still thick from the tears.

“It’s more than that, Phil. He cares about you, deeply.” Melinda said, settling her chin on his shoulder, propped up on her side a bit awkwardly.

“Mel, he’s not into men, especially not ones almost a decade older than him with a receding hair line, who can’t even tell himself he might be interested in another man.”

“So admit it.” She said, smacking his chest lightly. “Say it, right now, in the dark, with just me to hear.”

Phil took in a deep shuddering breath. “I- I think I might like Clint.”

“There you go, honey.” Melinda murmured, pressing a kiss into his shoulder before getting comfortable on the bed behind him. “It will be okay.”

The following morning the both woke up to the sound of someone banging on the door with far too much force.

“AC! Open up, boss man. I can’t find Agent May anywhere, and we have been on auto pilot all night.”

The both groaned, before rolling out of the bed and pulling on enough clothes to face what would sure to be the great Skye inquisition. For Melinda that meant her black tank top and matching jeans, for Phil that meant his full suit, including shoes.

Opening the door, was priceless though. Skye looked at Phil first, then Melinda, then back before punching his arm. “You sly old dog, that’s why you didn’t want to tell me! So friggin adorable, we already call you guys’ mom and dad behind your back.”

Melinda raised an eye brow at that.

“Right, right, we won’t do that anymore. Sorry Agent May.” Skye said, holding her hands up.

“God, you and Tasha could overthrow Fury and he would never know what hit him.” Phil said shaking his head at Melinda before turning his attention back to Skye. “No, Skye, Melinda and myself are not together. I am fairly certain her girlfriend would kill me and no one would find the body.”

“But you two obviously…” Skye said, motioning behind them at the rumpled bedding.

“We are two adults who happened to sleep in the same bed last night, Skye.” Melinda said, the dare for her to say anything more read clearly in her voice.

Skye looked back and forth between the two of them before sighing. “Seriously, what happened?”

“It’s none of your business, Skye.” Melinda said, putting herself between the younger woman and Phil.

“It’s okay, Mel. I owe her an explanation.” Phil said, putting a hand on her shoulder, before pulling her into a hug. “You’ll stay though?”

Melinda nodded against his shoulder where her head naturally rested when they hugged before pulling away and grabbing a chair so they could have the couch.

“AC, you’re scaring me.” Skye whispered watching the interaction. Coulson was always the rock on the team, and if he was crumbling, May stepped into the position with ease, but now both of them were softer than she was ever used to seeing them.

“I lied to you, I want to set it right.” Phil explained before sitting on the couch and motioning for her to take the seat across for him.

With Melinda holding his hand, Phil spilled his guts about what the drug did to him, how all of the things he pushed into the deep dark places of his mind came tumbling out of their hiding spots, demanding to be addressed. How Clint started to consume more of his thoughts, even though he thought he had pushed all of those feelings into the deepest, darkest, recesses of his mind.

Skye leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug. “Oh, AC, there is nothing wrong with you.”

Phil smiled tightly and looked at Melinda over her shoulder, where Melinda mouthed an ‘I told you so.’ at him, a victory smirk clear on her face.

It took months for it to be anything more than him being able to whisper it into the dark that he was bisexual, but Melinda constantly reminded him it was about the little victories, that years and years of telling himself that there was something wrong wasn’t going to disappear overnight.

Eventually they had a month grounding in New York, for upgrades on the plane and to repair some damage and Melinda insisted he come back to the tower with her, if nothing else than to see Natasha, who did actually miss him, even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud.

Natasha caught Melinda in a tight hug, whispering things to her in Russian that Phil was sure he didn’t want to know the translation of. Once they pulled away Natasha walked over to him and punched him the shoulder. Hard.

“Don’t you ever do that shit to us again. We both have enough abandonment issues.” Natasha snarled at him.

Phil nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll tell you what really happened if you want me to.”

Natasha shook her head. “Stark hacked the file.”

Melinda left him in the living room on the common floor after that, pulling Natasha behind her to the elevator to go to their floor. He was drifting on the couch when he heard the soft drop of feet hitting carpet, making him jerk awake to see Clint staring at him.

“Hiding in the vents again, Barton?” Phil asked, leaning back into the soft cushions.

“You know that’s where I go when emotional shit happens.” Clint responded, dropping into an arm chair where they could see each other.

“Emotional shit, hu?”

“Yea, Sir, like you being here.”

“I can leave.”

“Don’t.” Clint begged, his voice almost cracking with emotion.

“Okay.” Phil agreed, closing his eyes again.

“I’m sorry.”

Phil sighed but turned his attention back to Clint. “For what?”

“Killing you.”

“That wasn’t you, that was an alien god with daddy issues.”

“I was responsible, Sir.”

“You weren’t, Barton.”

Clint sighed, slouching back into the chair. “I missed you.”

Phil nodded his agreement. “I missed you, too.”

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

And then they fell into the silence they were so used to when Clint would camp out on his couch while they were both doing paperwork. It felt right, and for the first time since he died, Phil felt like he was almost at peace, which had him sleeping on the couch, although lightly.

“Ask him out already.” Natasha said, dropping down onto the arm rest of Clint’s chair, not speaking to loudly but loud enough to startle Phil out of his sleep. But Phil kept his eyes closed, schooling his breathing so he could listen.

“That’s a bad idea, Tasha.” Clint sighed, and the sound of the chair creaking followed. “Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re being an idiot. I have good intel that says he is interested.”

Phil rolled his eyes and made a mental note about sharing information with ex-girlfriends.

“What if I freak him out, we just got him back?”

“Did you not hear what I just said, идиот?”

Clint sighed, and Phil knew he was dragging his hand across the back of his neck, it was a nervous tic.

“Just ask him, Clint. It doesn’t have to be anything big and romantic. Ask him if he wants to go see a movie with you, or something. But for Christ sakes, ask the man out.” Phil heard the chair groan as Natasha moved before she dropped down on the couch beside him with much more force than was needed. “Stop pretending to be asleep. You suck at it. Next time aim for playing dead.”

Phil winced, caught in his lie turned to look at both of them, dragging his hand over his face. “Damn kids are letting me get rusty.”

“I’ll tell momma to make sure daddy starts practicing his skills.” Natasha said with a smirk.

“That sounded so much more terrifying from you than it should have.” Phil admitted with a small frown.

“Keep that in mind. Now are you two going to go on a date or do I have to wake Melinda up from her post orgasm nap to kick your asses into shape?”

“Come on, Tasha, you don’t play fair!” Clint whined at the same time that Phil started chanting “TMI!”

“You need to get off that plane more often, you really are around the kids to much.” Natasha said patting his back, getting up and slapping Clint upside the back of his head.

“What the hell was that for?”

“For when you inevitably fuck this up, even though Coulson is aware you are asking him out in less than five minutes. JARVIS will tell me if you don’t, won’t you JARVIS?”

“Absolutely ma’am. And may I say you are looking dashing today after your romp with Agent May.” The AI responded.

“You threated his motherboard again, didn’t you?” Clint asked.

“She did indeed, sir.” JARVIS responded.

“That’s really not cool. JARVIS is the man, man!”

“Thank you, sir. I agree, you are also, ‘the man’. But don’t let Master Stark know.”

Natasha rolled her eyes but left them alone, ducking into the kitchen to grab two bottles of some sports drink before heading back to Melinda.

“So…” Clint started, rubbing the back of his head.

“So, I apparently need to not have late night confessional with my ex-girlfriend, who can’t keep her god damn mouth shut after a few orgasms.” Phil was dangerously close to snarling, because this was not how he wanted to handle this. His idea of handling it was decidedly closer to avoiding it completely and potentially living a life of celibacy for the rest of it.

“I tried to tell Fury that that needed to be part of training. Eventually the villains of the world are going to realize a well-placed vibrator and some patience will give them anything they could want.” Clint said with a smirk.

Phil rolled his eyes, but really, Melinda and he had had the same thought, so he couldn’t get too mad. “It still would be considered rape, and we know how SHIELD doesn’t like talking about how often that happens as it is. Remember when Natasha got the unofficial hand book from Hill and dropped it on my desk, asking if I knew about it? Fury doesn’t even know about that handbook.”

Clint snorted. “The wonderful world of being a government agency, we can send Natasha on honeypot missions, but explicitly talking about how assets get raped is out of the question.”

“Because we don’t explicitly tell her to sleep with the target to get the information.”

Clint rolled his eyes, settling into the chair further, but letting the conversation end. He had been in the room one to many times when Natasha had to tell Melinda she was flying halfway across the world to seduce someone that wasn’t her. It wasn’t pleasant memories.

They sat there in uncomfortable silence for a while before it got the better of Clint, who rubbed the back of his neck, yet again before blurting, “I didn’t know you were gay.”

Phil cocked an eye brow before he replied. “I’m not.”

“Oh, I just…” Clint floundered before all but leaping from the chair and into the towers vent system.

Phil escaped to the guestroom on Natasha and Melinda’s floor, locking the door behind him almost as quickly. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. He had made so much progress and then with one conversation he so quickly slipped back into everything he had been trying to escape from. He wanted to be happy, damn it, and Clint was what he wanted to be happy, but the first conversation where he might have even gotten close and he had shut Clint down.

“Are you coming out for dinner, Philip?” Melinda yelled through the door.

“I don’t think so. What did I do to make you call me Philip again? That only happens when you’re trying to get my attention, or you’re pissed…” He trailed off. If he was a betting man his money would be on pissed.

“Well you see, my dear Philip, it seems a certain archer is sharing my bed again.” Melinda responded, before footsteps told him she had walked away.

Phil sighed and hit the back of his head against the headboard, which was much less effective than intended, being that it was pillowed headboard.

“Agent Coulson, may I assist you in any way?” JARVIS asked, obviously sensing the distress Phil was dealing with.

“Unless you can repro-“ He cut himself off. The wound was still too fresh for anything like that kind of joke, but then that sent him on a whole other spiral. What if this wasn’t some latent feeling that was being brought out by the drug, what if this was something they had accidently reprogrammed into his brain? What if Skye realizing her feelings for Jemma had just been a coincidence?

“I’m sorry, sir?” JARVIS asked, breaking thoughts for the moment.

“Nothing. I think I’m just going to bed. Good night, JARVIS.” Phil responded, stripping off his clothing to boxers and undershirt, before pulling the covers back on the bed and getting comfortable. But he couldn’t sleep, he was stuck tossing and turning, his mind constantly running on the what-if’s of what happened to him on that damn table.

“Sir, may I suggest a sleeping pill?” JARVIS offered after what was the second hour of Phil turning over and huffing every few minutes.

Phil grunted but sat up none the less, the dim table light turning on and a compartment in the table sliding back to produce a small cup with the pill sitting in it. An hour later he was snoring when Melinda cracked the door to check on him, slipping into the room as soundlessly as ever to sit on the other side of the bed from him. She could tell from the sheets he had spent to long tossing and turning trying to sleep, and she sighed, getting comfortable while she carded her fingers through his hair.

Natasha had asked her why she had lied about something like that, did she want to hurt Clint, and Melinda had looked at her girlfriend with disbelief, until Natasha told her to go, she couldn’t handle whatever was happening with them and Clint at the same time, and he needed to come first.

“Phil, what’s going on in your head, honey?” Melinda murmured, settling down to sleep beside him. He curled up against her almost as soon as she was settled, his face pulled tight with concentration even in his sleep.

The following morning Phil was blinking hard against the light streaming in the windows before he realized Melinda was curled around him.

“I thought I locked the damn door.” Phil muttered, rubbing his face.

“You did, I had JARVIS unlock it for me.” Melinda muttered back, nuzzling against his shoulder.

“Why are you in my bed?”

“Technically it’s my bed.”

“If we want to get technical, it’s Stark’s bed.”

“Ew.” Melinda wrinkled her nose. “Tasha kicked me out of bed last night.”

“You have been home for less than twenty four hours.” Phil said, his confusion evident.

“Yes, well, apparently Clint comes first when he is in our bed crying. Speaking of which, what exactly happened there, because Natasha is accusing me to lying to her because I wanted to hurt Clint?”

By the time Phil is done rehashing the events that happened, they are both sitting up against the headboard and Melinda smacks him upside his head.

“Dumb ass. This all could have been avoided had you just said ‘I’m not gay, Clint, I’m bisexual.’ Jesus Christ on a cracker, but no, oh no, you just said ‘I’m not gay.’ And let the poor man think he had made a pass at you, on my intel given to Natasha no less, only for it to look like it was a giant joke.” Melinda huffed. “He is ass over tea kettle in love with you, Phil, and now he thinks we were making fun of him for it.”

“Oh.” Phil murmured.

“You know, for being so damn good at your job, you are fucking clueless everywhere else.” Melinda huffed before getting out of the bed and grabbing a robe to put on.

“What if this is all from those machines?” Phil said suddenly.

“All what, Philip?” Melinda asked, her head cocked to the side while she tied the lilac silk robe that she found on the back of the door.

“The feelings, the memories, all of it.” Phil explained.

“Okay, let’s pretend for a minute that it might be. I most assuredly remember telling you I was bi and you sitting on the railing of the balcony of our apartment like you were ready to throw yourself off at the implication that you might be. But ignoring that, sure, yea I guess it all could be, but of all the things to do, why the hell would Fury fuck with your sexuality?”

Phil shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t mean to?”

“Jesus Christ, Philip Coulson, you are ridiculous! You are bisexual, put on your big boy panties and deal with it, and make shit right with Clint so I can get back to having orgasms.” She huffed before leaving, closing the door hard behind her.

Phil most decidedly did not want to ‘put on his big boy panties and deal’. Instead he pulled on a t-shirt and jeans, grabbed the bag of clothes he had brought with him for the vacation, and slipped out of the tower and into the embrace of anonymity that was the streets of New York.

Eventually he ended up in a little coffee shop that managed to continue to exist despite Starbucks attempting to be on every corner of the city. He had missed the name of the place but the inside was cozy, all overstuffed couches and chairs, in black so any spills wouldn’t stain, and low tables in deep cherry stain. Phil had claimed a chair in the back corner so that he could watch the rest of the shop with ease, and was content to just people watch while sipping some drink the barista had recommended and nibbling on the fresh baked cookies.

The world really never cared for what Phil was content to do, because Pepper Potts came strolling through the doorway before half the cookie was gone. He briefly hopped she wouldn’t notice him, or just be popping in for a cup of coffee to go, but all that was dashed when she took the seat across the table from him, a large mug in her delicate hands.

“Phil.”

“Pepper.”

“Tony told me you ‘made a daring escape’ from the tower this morning.” Pepper said, and Phil could only roll his eyes that it would be interpreted like that. “In his defense of saying it like that, you did pretty much run away from Natasha and Melinda, I think we can classify that as a daring escape.”

Phil sighed but nodded his concession.

“Want to tell me where you’re going, or why?”

“Not particularly.”

“Alright. We will sit here and have coffee, and if you change your mind before I leave you do, and if not…” She trailed off with a shrug.

Phil nodded his understanding and by the time he was almost done he realized why Pepper was such a good CEO. She could out wait the best of them.

“I have a lot going on right now.” Phil said by way of explanation.

“As I would expect, being dead for days recently and all.”

Phil nodded his agreement. “I get an afterlife crisis right? I mean I already redeemed the midlife one for Lola, but I get an afterlife one right?”

“Absolutely. I would demand two for all the shit Fury did to you.” Pepper said, and it brought a smile to Phil’s face, because even now he could see the gears working in her head to make Fury sign an actual contract stating that Phil did get two afterlife crises.

“Mel’s been trying to help, but…”

“But, Mel is Mel, and how she approaches things and how you approach things are vastly different. This is the woman who I watched stich up her own hand without pain medication after sliding it open with a knife she was sharpening. Whereas you would have calmly called for a medic and gladly taken the pain medication.” Pepper said, and the association wasn’t that far off really.

Phil nodded. “Exactly, Mel soldiers through pretty much everything, but I don’t want to solider through, I would much rather not fake it.” Then he sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I wish I was comfortable enough to tell you what is going on in my head, but as it is, Mel dragged it out of me kicking and screaming, and I am still trying to shut it down.”

Pepper placed her hand over his on the table between them, dragging her thumb soothingly across the back of his hand. “Phil, I am never going to look at you any differently, I promise, whatever it is. If I was going to be upset with you over something or think of you differently over something, it would have to be massive. Like we are talking you going evil, stealing JARVIS and taking over the world, massive.”

Phil tried to smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. “Even if it would fundamentally change who I was as a person?”

“So you are turning evil and taking over the world? I mean, after the shit Fury did, I don’t really blame you…”

Phil chuckled, shaking his head. “I am not going evil, Ms. Potts. I promise you that.”

“Than nothing you could say is going to matter, Phil.”

Phil exhaled hard, thinking about if he wanted to do this. Did he really want to tell someone else other than Melinda about his feelings? Skye knew, but Skye was Skye, they had an odd father-daughter thing going on, and as a result seemed to care about each other unconditionally, even when they were mad at each other over something. Even with all of Pepper’s reassurances, he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be disgusted with him. After some internal debate he decided he could do this halfway.

“What if I told you I think I might be bisexual?” He made sure to phrase it like a question, which was mostly for his own peace of mind, if it was a question he wasn’t stating a fact, just a theoretical.

“Clint would be over the moon, the man has it so bad for you.” Pepper said, playing along with his just a theoretical game.

“That doesn’t tell me how you feel about it.”

“Phil, I am dating Tony for heaven’s sake. There is nothing that stopped that man from having sex. _Nothing_. I think one particularly memorable morning I got to throw out two women and three men. Yea, I still don’t know how _that_ worked. Bisexuality isn’t going to phase me in the slightest. I’m sure you have read the articles about me too, I wasn’t shy about who I slept with in college.” She ended with a shrug. “It is what it is, honey.”

“It’s just not that easy for me.” Phil said, looking at his coffee like it held all the answers to life.

“Is it the label that skives you out?”

Not for the first time Phil thought what a good SHIELD agent Pepper would have made had she not been CEO of Stark Industries. Skye and her together would have been a great welcome wagon. “Yea, I think so. I grew up with being anything another straight was wrong. But the actual idea of being with a man doesn’t freak me out, but labeling that? That makes me break out in a cold sweat.”

“So don’t. Be with who you want to be with, Phil, and don’t worry about trying to attach some label to it, if it stresses you out. Your sexuality is Phil Coulson, you are who you are.”

“Thanks, Pepper.” He said, squeezing her hand.

“Anytime, Phil. Think you want to come back to the tower?”

“Yea I think I can manage that now.”

By the time they walked into the common floor dining room, Bruce and Clint were putting food on the table for dinner, and Natasha turned to see them, staring daggers through Phil.

“I’m going to fix it, I’m sorry.” He mouthed to her, but she kept looking at him like his flesh should start peeling at her will.

“You better.” She mouthed back.

Dinner was tense, mostly because Melinda and Natasha were taking turns at staring at each other angrily before turning it to him, and back and forth it went. But when everyone was finally full, Phil offered to help do dishes when Clint started collecting them and taking them to the kitchen, and the tense air that had surrounded dinner shot straight up to awkward.

“You really don’t have to, it’s my night.” Clint tried, but Phil was having none of it. He wanted to explain after his talk with Pepper, and he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to get Clint alone to do it unless it was under the guise of something else.

“I’m a guest, I’m helping. My mother would be appalled if I didn’t.” Phil insisted, grabbing plates to take into the kitchen, trying to leave no room for discussion.

“Seriously, Agent, it’s Merida’s – Ow! What the hell, Pep? Why did you kick me?” Tony said.

“If _Phil_ would like to help, let him help. And stop calling Clint things other than his name, and for Christ sakes, Phil’s name is Phil. Not Agent.” Pepper said, rolling her eyes.

Phil shot her a smile and quickly mouthed “Thank you,” before disappearing into the kitchen with an armful of plates. Four trips later he was standing at the sink with Clint, washing dishes while Clint rinsed, dried and put them away.

“Really, I could do this myself.” Clint tried to protest.

“I know. But I wanted to apologize, and talk to you about yesterday.” Phil said handing him a plate.

“I don’t. Want to talk about it, that is.”

“Well, I’m not asking you to talk, just listen?”

“Fine.” Clint huffed, stretching on his tiptoes to put the plate away on its shelf.

“I’m sorry I made you think that I wasn’t interested. I’m not okay with labeling myself. I spent years in the army with stupid chants about beating the queer out of people happening around me. I just can’t label it. But, Clint, if you’re interested, I am. I want to try. I want to be happy, and I think you might make me happy.” Phil said, while washing dishes and handing them over.

“Um, wow.” Clint said after a moment, dragging his hand over the back of his neck.

“Sorry.” Phil said, handing him another plate. “If that was –“

Clint cut him off, turning him gently so that the small of Phil’s back was pressed into the lip of the counter while Clint’s hands framed his body, resting on the counter. A second later Clint leaned forward and pressed his lips against Phil’s, almost shyly.

“Okay?” Clint asked when he pulled away.

“Absolutely.” Phil sighed, before wrapping his arms around Clint’s shoulders and capturing Clint’s lips with his own.


End file.
